When Fandoms Collide
by BooksAreLikeChocolateButBetter
Summary: In a strange and totally coincidental turn of events the Doctor, Sherlock Holmes AND the Golden Trio end up at the same place. Unfortunately for them, their enemies unite in an attempt to destroy them and defeat the world-saving prophecy. Luckily, the nations from Hetalia are there to save them! 11th Doctor used. Crack fic is cracky and it may make no sense at all. I did warn you.
1. The Power of Scones

Chapter One: The Power of Scones

_"Charles Augustus Magnussen isn't a man, he's a machine."_

Charles Augustus Magnussen, or CAM to others, tended to class himself as a very emotionless person. In actuality, he couldn't exactly class himself as a _person_, but what was the point in clutching at straws?

He especially liked it when other people described him as a machine as this was a description (whilst highly accurate) he seemed to find highly ironic or, for lack of a better word, amusing. The truth was, in fact, Charles Magnussen _was_ a machine and he was the greatest machine of all. He was the leader of the Daleks.

Now, becoming the leader of the Daleks was no mean feat. He'd had to work for it, and work he did. He'd worked his way up the (figurative) career ladder of the Dalek Empire and after some time (the last Dalek leader had mysteriously vaporised.), he had eventually landed the role of the leader of the Dalek Empire.

Recently there had been some upset within the Dalek fleet. A new prophecy had come about, a prophecy that predicted the end of all villains and all things evil.(Magnussen personally thought that this was cheesy as heck, but it had _specifically_ referenced to the Empire of the Daleks so he naturally had to do something about it if he wanted to keep his current position.)

The prophecy stated that the Dalek fleet, and all evil, would be destroyed by a man. A Time Lord named The Doctor and several other companions. One of these companions was Sherlock Holmes whom Magnussen had been keeping a close eye on as of late. At first, it had seemed that Sherlock Holmes was just like anybody else, boringly human. However, Magnussen had quickly come to the conclusion that whilst he _was_ human, he was in no way boring. There was no denying it; Sherlock Holmes was gifted. He was smart, cunning, and constantly alert. Recently, he always seemed to be one step ahead of Magnussen.

Like the stroppy teenage girl he innately was, Magnussen had become fed-up of Sherlock. He ignored Magunssen's calls, chucked away his fan-mail and rejected him every time he suggested meeting up. Well, Charles wasn't going to take it anymore; the Dalek part of him was taking over and Sherlock Holmes, his brother and all the king's men wouldn't be able to stop him.

* * *

"Sherlock, where are my trousers?" John Watson yelled, causing the only other person in flat 221-B to spill tea down his shirt.

A sharp inhale was heard from the other room along with a long string of curses. Spilling hot tea over your clothes was not a good way to start the morning.

"SHERLOCK, WHERE ARE MY TROUSERS?" John repeated, his voice reverberating off the small walls of the flat. John was getting angrier by the minute. Sherlock would hardly have been surprised if he turned into a wolf or something. Stranger things have happened before.

"Hmmm…" Sherlock thought for a moment. "They're on top of the fridge." He said bluntly.

John marched into the room, wearing a buttoned dress shirt and black Calvin Klein boxers which were exceedingly tight. Sherlock raised his eyebrows but made no comment and continued wiping his shirt in an effort to get the tea off as he was clearly too lazy to change and it was only going to leave a small stain.

John stood in front of Sherlock's chair, his hands were balled into fists and his face had gone an odd shade of pink. He was blocking the television that had been switched on in preparation for the upcoming programme. "Why are they on top of the fridge?"

Sherlock simply shrugged. "I was tidying up and it seemed like a convenient place to put them."

John wanted to question why someone with one of the highest IQ's in the world would have the same amount of common sense that a goldfish possessed but he decided to, very maturely, just glare at Sherlock. He then grabbed his trousers off the fridge and put them on; doing so in quick succession due to his repressed anger.

"I blame Mary, you know." Sherlock's voice could be heard from the kitchen.

John sighed and left the kitchen. He perched in the chair opposite Sherlock. "Okay, for once I'll go along with this. Why do you blame Mary for my trousers being on the fridge?"

Sherlock looked at John, amusement and confusion etched across his face. "Are you still on about the trousers? John, do the world a favour and get over the trousers. God, that was so two minutes ago."

John remained undeterred. "Okay, so what do you blame Mary for?"

Sherlock was silent for a moment. "Magnussen," he replied. John saw that he shivered when he'd said that, as though the very name frightened him.

"I don't even know who that is."

Sherlock shrugged. The typical arrogance was obvious in his voice. "I didn't expect you to."

The conversation was then abandoned as _Adventure Time _came on the television and both Holmes and Watson became totally absorbed in the show; it was their shared guilty pleasure. They had just finished the first episode when there was a knock at the door. Sherlock pretended that he hadn't heard the knock in order to avoid getting up.

"I'll get it then, shall I?" John hoisted himself out of the chair, walked over to the door and pulled it straight open, expecting it to be just another regular client.

John immediately saw that it was most certainly not a regular client. Standing, well not exactly standing, _positioned _in front of him was a machine of some sort. Well, he didn't know if it was a machine, but he figured that machine was as accurate as he could get. It had a weird _thing _sticking out of its head. John guessed that it was some sort of eyepiece. It also had two other things that John could only identify as a whisk and a plunger. All in all, the machine did not look that terrifying.

John had to stifle a laugh. "Um, what exactly are you supposed to be? You are aware that it's not Halloween yet for another two months?"

"COME WITH ME OR YOU SHALL BE EXTERMINATED," the machine bleeped at him.

Despite himself, John flinched and called for Sherlock. "Sherlock, there's a _thing _out here and I think it may be slightly dangerous, come over here and look."

Sighing, Sherlock reluctantly got up and joined John at the door. Unlike John, Sherlock had never heard of tact and began to openly laugh at the visitor: _big mistake. _

"Lovely costume," he said, his eyes aglow with laughter. "Did Mycroft send you? Is this some kind of joke?"

Apparently, the machine didn't like being taunted and to prove that it wasn't to be mocked it emitted one of its deadly rays and "exterminated" the television that was still showing _Adventure Time. _

The two detectives stood there, shocked, mouths agape.

Sherlock was the first to regain his composure and he was angry. "That was a seventy-two inch plasma screen TV _and you blew it up!"_

John looked back at the TV. _Seventy-two inches? _Well, it was pretty big. They had recently bought a new one as Sherlock blew up the old one after watching a particularly dramatic episode of _Jeremy Kyle._

The machine ignored Sherlock's fury and repeated the order. "COME WITH ME OR YOU SHALL BE EXTERMINATED!" It then turned its Whisk of Death on John, causing them both to panic and hold their hands up in surrender.

* * *

It was a crisp, Sunday morning and the streets of London were disturbingly empty. Holmes and Watson followed the machine that had not yet introduced itself (which, in Sherlock's opinion, was just downright rude) until they ended up down a secluded alley. The machine began to glow, the two spokes on its head flashed rapidly and the two men were left standing confused as to what was happening. A flash of white light filled their visions, and they both squinted to shield from its harsh ray. When the light disappeared, they were greeted by a change in surroundings. They had literally _moved_. They were on some kind of ship where, the detectives saw to their dismay; they were surrounded by hundreds of machines, each one complete with their own whisks and plungers.

"I don't want you to panic," Sherlock whispered to John, his voice held a tone of bewilderment and surprise. "But I don't think we're in London anymore."

John made a sound, kind of like a snort, that was partly agreement and partly annoyance at Sherlock's obvious statement.

They stood, still as statues, not wanting to make any sudden movements to encourage extermination which did not seem like a pleasant way to die. All of the machines were silent and it appeared that they were waiting for something, or someone. Whilst they were standing the duo tried to take in their surroundings. The room that there were in reminded Sherlock of the Colosseum or the Globe. There was a massive circular space in the middle where Sherlock and John stood and around the circle lay different sections, almost like a football stadium, where the machines were positioned. They reminded Sherlock of spectators at a show, waiting for the death of a Gladiator. It looked like the detectives were there to provide the entertainment and Sherlock wanted to know who their opponent was and what the odds of them coming out alive were.

There was a large golden door positioned in an alcove. Sherlock assumed that the door was the only way in or out; if the need arose then that door was to be their only chance of escape. Suddenly, the door opened and another machine entered the room. There was a sudden atmospheric shift and all of the machines seemed to become more alert, they became rigid. It was similar to a soldier standing to attention. The newcomer was probably the leader of the machines and it was heading towards Sherlock and John. The machine was mere metres away from the pair when it stopped. Something strange then began to occur. The machine's appearance began to change, it began to transform. It grew taller and narrower. The whisk, eyepiece and plunger disappeared and a face took its place- a face that was disturbingly familiar to Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock stood, frozen in shock. It felt as though time had stopped. The moment seemed endless and Sherlock felt as though he had been stood speechless for hours whilst it had only been a matter of seconds. He _knew_ that face; he'd had nightmares about that face. That face had haunted his mind for the last two months and had left him waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night feeling disturbed and unsettled. Now, that face was in front of him and Sherlock realised that his nightmares were not nightmares at all- they had been the truth and the truth was often hard to face. The odds were not in Sherlock's favour.

The machine, Sherlock knew that there must have been a reason for that man's lack of emotional range, was now in complete human form. He smiled, revealing his polished white teeth at the two baffled detectives. Sherlock fought the urge to shiver in repulsion.

"Hello!" The machine-now-turned-human called out in a singsong voice. He wiggled his spidery fingers in Sherlock's direction. "The great Sherlock Holmes," he smiled again and this time Sherlock allowed the shiver to pass through him. The man tilted his head. "Can I call you Sherly?"

"Magnussen," was Sherlock's blunt reply. His hands were balled into fists. "We finally meet."

John's eyes flickered between the two, he knew he had missed something and Sherlock was just about to offer an explanation when his friend's eyes widened significantly as though he had finally realised what was so strange about the situation.

"_Sherly?"_

* * *

"Would you care for a scone, Doctor?" The blonde, bushy-browed Brit asked. He was already on his fourth scone and seemed compelled to offer both the Doctor and his fellow nation a scone every two minutes.

"England, I don't want you to take this offensively or anything, but your scones kind of suck." The obnoxious American answered .The Doctor had thought that he had been trying alternative ways to kindly reject the Brit's scones but had obviously given up trying to be nice about it.

The Doctor sighed as he continued flying his beloved TARDIS. He was really starting to regret inviting England and America aboard the TARDIS, but then again it was hardly a choice. The Doctor owed England a favour; he had lost a bet with the Brit. He really needed to stop gambling; it was going to get him into trouble soon. The bet had been whether or not America could eat over 100 burgers without being sick. The Doctor declared this impossible, even burger fanatics could surely not devour that many in consecutive succession without being physically ill, but the Brit had merely shrugged and bet that the American _could _do it. England had somehow won the bet due to the American's unfathomable ability to consume an infinite amount of burgers.

America placed his hand on the Doctor's shoulder causing the Time Lord to flinch; America was very heavy-handed. "So, where are we going?"

The Doctor grinned. "Anywhere you want to."

The American nation thought for a bit before making a decision. "I know!" He exclaimed, his cerulean eyes lighting up with excitement. "Can we go see England as a child? I really, _really, _wanna see that!" America looked at England and laughed, the Brit's face had turned a tinge of pink as he spluttered, spitting out his scone.

"No, you bloody well cannot!" England protested, shaking his head, his blonde hair defiantly falling in his face. "Why would you want to see that anyway?" England visibly cringed and he was obviously trying to suppress a bad childhood memory.

The Doctor laughed at their harmless bickering when a screen on the TARDIS became illuminated with flashing, red warning notifications.

"Oh dear. Red, flashy warning signs! That can't be good." The Doctor began wandering around the TARDIS console looking for any signs of malfunction or danger.

The two nations ran towards the console, both looking concerned. "America, what did you do?" The Brit asked, half-jokingly, gesturing towards the screens.

"Hey, that's not nice. You can't keep blaming me for stuff that I didn't do!" America pouted and moved away from England to the other side of the console. The Doctor thought that the two nations were being incredibly over-emotional just lately. That was an issue he'd have to address later.

"Hey, don't be like that." The Brit bit his lip and his emerald eyes had softened. "I didn't mean it…" England's voice had turned gentle. They were definitely over-emotional and, if today was anything to go by, emotionally unstable in the Doctor's opinion.

America was about to reply when the Doctor's voice interrupted them.

"That's impossible!" The Doctor cried, his hands shaking as he grasped the screen. "How do they keep coming back?" His voice cracked, and America and England both rushed to his side.

"What?" An equally concerned England and America asked simultaneously.

"A Dalek ship has just been picked up on the TARDIS radar. It seems like they're up to something if they've been hiding all this time. I haven't detected Dalek activity in ages. They're supposed to all be dead, but they just keep coming back. I defeat them and they just keep coming back…" The Doctor replied, his voice was grim and his eyes were suddenly the eyes of an old man who had seen too much and was haunted by too many ghosts. In that moment, the man with the cheery personality and flamboyant appearance felt like a disguise for something damaged and scarred.

England cleared his throat. "What's a Dalek?" England asked, curiosity was evident in his voice.

"They're aliens," the Doctor explained. "Mean nasty aliens who always want to expand and take over other planets."

"Do they know Russia?" America asked, receiving a baffled look from the Doctor and a glare from England.

England rolled his eyes. "You can be such an idiot…" There was no weight behind the words.

"What? They sound like the type who would be friends with Russia," America protested, only half-jokingly.

England simply glared some more whilst the Doctor began to fiddle with the console.

"What are you doing?" England asked.

The Doctor looked at him as if it was obvious; it _was_ obvious. "Landing the TARDIS on the Dalek ship, of course. I need to find out what they're up to and then I need to stop it. That's what I usually do when it comes to the Daleks."

England was about to say something, probably to protest, the Doctor could see that the Brit's expression was angry.

"ENGLAND!" America cried as the TARDIS sped through the Time Vortex and towards its destination, throwing all three inhabitants around.

* * *

The TARDIS made its typical whooshing sound as they landed in the cockpit of the ship. "Well, here we are. Let's go- Geronimo!" The Doctor announced as he flung open the doors, America and England were right behind him. They had only just left the TARDIS when they ran into a Dalek.

"EXTERMINATE!"

"_Oh shit." _America cursed, "Is that a Dalek-thingy?"

The Doctor gave a sharp inhale. "Oh, yes, that's one of them."

The Doctor examined his surroundings for a weapon to use but he couldn't see anything that would be useful. They were in a narrow, empty corridor. The Doctor was about to suggest running for their lives when America came up with an idea. "I got this! England, give me a scone!"

England sighed, reaching into his backpack which was holstered on his right shoulder. "I was saving this one for later…" He reluctantly gave the American his last scone.

"SCONES, I CHOOSE YOU!" America lobbed the scone directly at where he assumed (and the Doctor later admitted that the American was actually correct) the Dalek's mainframe would be, right in between the whisk and plunger.

For a couple of seconds nothing happened and the three travellers stood in fear and anticipation. Then, there was a huge bang and the Dalek _exploded_ into a yellow ball of flames.

"Haha!" The American's laugh bounced off the walls of the corridor causing an infinite echo of laughter. "See England, I told you your scones were bad."

England crossed his arms and huffed. "My scones are just fine, you git."

The Doctor grinned and stared at the patch of scorched linoleum where the Dalek had once stood. "Tell that to the Dalek your 'fine' scones just killed."

* * *

**A/N: So.. That's chapter one done, I honestly have no idea what I just wrote.. Um, yeah so England has Dalek-destroying scones.**

**Oh, also this fic is being co-written by MillieTheKitty37 and I, though it will just be posted on my profile.**

**Disclaimer: We own nothing.**

**Thanks for reading! :)**

****~BooksAreLikeChocolateButBetter.****

****~MillieTheKitty37****


	2. Bitch Please, I'm Harry Potter

Bitch Please, I'm Harry Potter

**A/N: I present you with a filler chapter! :D Woo! This chapter was written by my lovely co-writer MillieTheKitty27, so please give her some love as this is her first fanfiction! :3 Anyway, the next chapter will be longer than this due to how short this one is! Enjoy the cracky weirdness~**

**Warning: Slight cussing.**

* * *

_"_Seriously though-_ Sherly_?" John demanded, staring from Sherlock to the Magnussen-Robot-thing. Sherlock just shrugged.

"He says he's my biggest fan." Magnussen nodded eagerly.

"He never reads my fanfictions," Magnussen complained to the very confused John. "Or my notes, or my fan-mail, or returns my calls, or-"

"You're the reason Ms. Hudson came in complaining about our phone bill?" John asked, annoyed.

"Obviously," both Sherlock and Magnussen said in unison.

"Why did he kidnap us? Is he actually a robot…_Thing_? What even are these robot things?" John asked, not caring about how rapidly he was losing his temper; despite the fact that when John gets angry, shit goes down.

"First, he's a creepy fan, John- aka a fan-girl. Surely even _you_ can figure that out. "

Sherlock rolled his eyes, oblivious to his friend's near-explosion state. "Second, yes, he is one of these robots with a toilet plunger and a whisk for hands-"

"WE ARE THE DALEKS," another robot ("Dalek") bleeped. "CAM IS OUR LEADER AND HE IS BURDENED WITH GLORIOUS PURPOSE."

"Whatever," Sherlock sniffed; he'd rather be solving a murder or playing _Cluedo. _Then there was a sudden crashing noise.

"One of you go check that out," ordered Magnussen, who was staring at Sherlock lovingly (similar to when Hungary reads Yaoi). A Dalek moved to obey, but was shot back by a red light.

"BITCH PLEASE," a voice shouted. "I AM THE BOY WHO LIVED."

* * *

Hermione Granger had originally hoped that she could just have a quiet day in the library at Hogwarts, but _nooo_, Harry and Ron made her go outside. They had walked next to several statues; Hermione reflected that she should have paid more attention to those statues as they had never been there before. There was a flash of white light and all of a sudden, they were surrounded by metal walls. It was like something out of a T.V show her dad liked, _Doctor What_ or something. Ah, _Doctor Who_. That was it. She pulled herself to her feet. Ron and Harry were already up, wands out.

"Hermione, what's-" Ron began, as a voice said ordered to 'check that out.' Realizing it was coming towards them, Harry raised his wand.

"Expelliarmus!' he whispered, before adding in a louder voice, "BITCH PLEASE, I AM THE BOY WHO LIVED."

"BITCH PLEASE; I AM SHERLOCK HOLMES' NUMBER ONE FAN," the same voice replied.

"BITCH PLEASE-" Ron began, before thinking about what he was going to say. He paused, and then shouted, "I'M A GINGER!"A look of triumph was evident on Ron's face.

"BUUUURNED..." bleeped something robotic.

"Exterminate that one for telling me I'm burned," 'Sherlock Holmes's number one fan' replied.

"YES-CAM" beeped several voices, "EXTERMINATE!" They cried, before exterminating a rebellious Dalek.

"Bring those intruders in here." Hermione, busy looking closely at the creature Harry had shot, gasped.

"What is it, Hermione?" Harry asked. Both he and Ron were watching her while they prepared themselves to fight.

"I know what it is. It's a Dalek...And it sounds like there are a lot of them."

* * *

**Hope you like the story so far!**

**Thanks for reading :') **

**~MillieTheKitty37**

**~BooksAreLikeChocolateButBetter**


	3. Meet and Greet (Featuring Moriarty)

Meet and Greet (featuring Moriarty)

"Your scones are so bad that they make Daleks _explode!_" America exclaimed, taking full advantage of the chance to tease his friend. "What the hell do you actually put in those? _Poison?_"

"No I only put poison in on bad days," England replied. "So, don't piss me off, America."

"Okay, stop right now!" The Doctor announced his frustration incredibly clear. "I can barely think straight with you guys here! We've been walking down the same corridor for over ten minutes! Can you guys _just stop?_"

It was true, the trio had been wandering the Dalek ship for well over ten minutes and they still hadn't found the main area of the ship; the area where all of the Daleks would have been.

"I don't understand…" The Doctor mused aloud. "Why would they purposefully send a signal to the TARDIS? It just doesn't make any sense. Frigging Dalek morons! I mean, I know they recently got a new leader, but that doesn't mean anything…" He sighed.

"Isn't their new leader that CAM guy?" England spoke up. "I believe his name is Magnussen. He's not a very nice fellow."

"Wait, so a _human_ commands an elite alien fleet? Pretty cool," America commented, his blue eyes twinkling with mirth. "Super cool, actually."

"No, it's not 'super cool,'" the Doctor lectured. "It is most definitely not super cool. Super evil, yes. Super suspicious, yes. But, super cool nu-uh." The Doctor then performed a sassy Z Click, reinforcing his point.

"Oh," the American hung his head low- ashamed that he'd disappointed his Senpai who wasn't really his senpai because England was totally his senpai.

"Don't worry America; it's not your fault that you're stupid." England said in that perfectly condescending tone he possessed.

"Aw, thanks England!" The Doctor and England rolled their eyes, clearly wondering how this lovable dork was the personification of one of the greatest countries in the world.

* * *

"I don't get it…" Ron muttered, staring in awe at all of the Daleks that surrounded them.

"There's a surprise," Hermione responded dryly, rolling her eyes.

"Hey!" John interjected; sticking up for Ron, "I don't get it either!"

"And there's a surprise," Sherlock muttered, "Shock of the century."

Magnussen chuckled, _these were the people destined to destroy the mighty Dalek fleet? Please._ The only two that seemed to actually possess brain cells were Sherlock, of course, and the girl with the bushy hair who Magnussen assumed was Hermione Granger.

"Right!" He announced. "I figure that I should wait for all of you to arrive before I destroy everyone. So," he paused dramatically before getting something from his bag of 'Destroying the World Stuff', "Who's up for a game of _Cluedo?"_

John groaned, the Golden Trio shrugged and Sherlock victory-danced. "I call Miss Scarlett!"

Magnussen pouted. "But, _I _wanted to be that one."

Sherlock glared. "I am always Miss Scarlett."

John nodded. "He is _always_ Miss Scarlett."

_"Fine!"_ Magnussen hissed. "I'll be Professor Plum then."

The minor calamity was forgotten as three teenage wizards, the world's only consulting detective, an evil mastermind and John sat down to play _Cluedo. _The Daleks were starting to regret having CAM as their leader.

* * *

"I'm starting to think that there are no Daleks on this ship." The Doctor proclaimed as they entered yet another vacant room. "We haven't seen any here at all."

"We saw the one that blew up; that was a Dalek, right?" England inquired.

"Yes, that was a Dalek," the Doctor agreed. "But if this is a Dalek ship then there should be hundreds of them."

"But, there _are_ hundreds of them!" America spoke up, confused. "When we all went exploring separately, I saw this massive room and there were tons of them! They weren't paying any attention to me though. They were all focused on these people who were playing some kind of board game." America shrugged. "I didn't think it was very important."

"Not very important," the Doctor stated, repeating Alfred's words. _"Not very important?"_ he screeched. "Of course it's important! Now, America, where did you see these Daleks?"

"Just down the corridor," he answered, sheepishly. The Doctor nodded before speeding off, leaving America and England alone in the corridor together.

"I think we should probably follow him," England stated, squinting down the corridor.

America shrugged. "You're probably right," he agreed before beaming his wide, perfect smile. "Let's go then, England!" he yelled, before turning and running after the Doctor. He assumed that England was following him and so he didn't turn around to check.

He should have turned around.

* * *

"What _are_ you all doing?" The Doctor questioned, striding into the room and pretending not to be bothered by the intimidating presence of the Daleks. America followed behind and was looking around the room in awe.

"Well, we were playing _Cluedo_, but now that you're here we'll have to stop. I don't want to be rude to my guests." Magnussen stood and brushed himself off, keeping a watchful eye on the Doctor who was scanning the faces of the array of "guests."

"So, I guess we should all have a mini meet-and-greet session before I obliterate all of you," Magnussen suggested, his tone sounding extremely contradicting with the serious threat that he'd just made.

The others shrugged and they began to introduce themselves; the Doctor went first.

"Well, I'm the Doctor. I'm a 1,196 year old Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey; I'm the last of the Time Lords and I protect planets throughout time and space from evil aliens like this lot." The Doctor gestured to the Daleks and the end of that phrase.

Next was Sherlock. "My name's Sherlock Holmes. I'm the world's only consulting detective and I'm probably the smartest man you'll ever meet," he concluded, looking smug.

"He's also the biggest show-off you'll ever meet," John added, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. _Am I the only one stressing out here?_ He thought, rolling his eyes. When they were done, he'd have a nice cup of tea and maybe he'd get Mrs. Hudson to get him some biscuits.

"I'm John Watson. I solve crimes with this idiot," he stated, pointing at Sherlock. "I'm his blogger." He shrugged, and motioned for someone else to talk.

"I'm Harry. Harry Potter. I'm a wizard, I go to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I'm well known for defeating Lord Voldemort. I'm currently in my sixth year at Hogwarts." The teenager with the glasses who was speaking seemed slightly uncomfortable; as if all of the attention bothered him, which was slightly ridiculous as he's Harry freaking Potter.

"My name's Hermione Granger." The teenage girl with slightly bushy hair spoke clearly and concisely. "I go to the same school as Harry and Ronald. We're in the same year and house. I guess I'm well known for being the brightest witch of my age." She shrugged, as if to show that she wasn't bothered by it, but her tone revealed an sliver of pride.

"I'm Ron," Ron said. "Ron Weasley. I guess I'm well known for putting up with these two." Said two sent the freckled ginger high intensified death glares.

"And I'm America!" America announced, pumping his fist in the air. He noticed the puzzled faces of everyone else in the room and grinned. "Yeah, I am _the_ America because well, I'm just that much of a hero. Nations for the win!" He announced, loudly, causing the other people in the room to cover their ears.

"Right, that's all of the introductions done. Now, my turn, I suppose. I'm sure that most of you have figured it out, but my name is Charles Augustus Magnussen and I'm the new and improved leader of the Dalek Empire. I am burdened with great and glorious purpose. The purpose of stopping the prophecy, which leads me to explaining your obvious capture."

"Whoa wait, wait! I'm sorry but, _capture?_ As in, _we have to stay here?_" John inquired, looking angrier with every word causing Sherlock to back away from his companion.

Magnussen nodded, undeterred by John's obvious aggression issues. "Yes, that's right."

"Well, that's not happening. No way in _hell_ is that happening," John stated, his face turning redder and his voice becoming louder.

Magnussen sighed, exasperated. "Sherlock, if you could just kiss him or something to shut him up then it would be very much appreciated." Sherlock just glared at Magnussen so powerfully that he quickly changed the subject.

Pushing his glasses further up his nose, Magnussen continued to talk. "The prophecy states that the Doctor, Sherlock Holmes and his Blogger, the Boy Who Lived plus his two companions and the countries of America and England will join forces to defeat the Dalek Empire, so before you could do that I figured that it would be tactical for me to get all of you first."

"I suppose that makes sense," Ron mused. "It's actually not that bad of a plan… Hey!" Hermione had whacked Ron on the head.

"Wait a second!" America announced, causing everyone to turn to him. "You missed out England in the introduction!"

"England?" John asked.

"Yeah, England! You missed out _England!_ See, he's right there-" America paused as he realised that England was definitely not there. "Oh my God. Where's England?"

The Doctor frowned and turned to the nation. "I left him with you!"

"I swear, he was _right_ behind me." America frantically looked around but all he could see where Daleks that appeared to be_\- dormant?-_ and _no England._

America buried his face in his hands.

"Oh, shit."

* * *

_"Where the bloody hell am I?"_

England was most definitely not impressed. He'd been shoved against his will onto a Dalek ship and then he'd been kidnapped by a stranger who was probably dangerous and he had absolutely no idea where he was! All he knew was that the room- he assumed it was a room as it was completely stationary- was dark and it smelt faintly of burnt scones.

"Okay, I swear on the life of the great Queen Elizabeth the First, if you don't answer me I will not be responsible for my actions," England threatened, trying his best to sound intimidating.

"Oh, I'm _so_ scared. Should I call my mummy?" A sinister voice asked mockingly.

"Who are you?"

The man chuckled. "Now, isn't that the question… Oh, I suppose I'll play nice and tell you. My name's Jim Moriarty and I must say it's a pleasure to meet you England. I've heard _so_ much about you."

At that moment, the light came on and England had to blink due to the harsh light penetrating his eyes. Jim Moriarty was standing beside the doorway and England had to admit that the man knew how to look intimidating, it was just the way that Moriarty carried himself, the calm yet threatening look in his eyes made you aware of just how dangerous the man could be.

Despite himself, England's tsundere mode just wouldn't switch off. "What the hell do you want with me, you bastard?"

Moriarty grinned, and England just knew that it was going to be something horrible. Maybe England had to kill someone, or help to rob a bank or sit through an entire episode of _The Kardashians._

"I need you to make scones," Moriarty announced, holding up a pair of pink oven gloves.

_Well, that certainly wasn't what England had been expecting._

* * *

**A/N: So, that's chapter three in the bag of the story that pretty much makes no sense! But, ohmygosh, we're loving writing this fic and we just keep coming up with more ideas for it so expect this to be a loooong ongoing story! We hope you'll stay with us for the ride!**

**Thanks for reading! :')**

**~BooksAreLikeChocolateButBetter**

****~MillieTheKitty37****


	4. Jack Harkness-Flirting Extraordinaire

Jack Harkness- Flirting Extraordinaire

England loved scones. He loved making scones. He loved eating scones with a nice cup of English breakfast or Earl Grey on a rainy Saturday morning curled up with a good book and his cat, Crumpet. What he didn't like, however, was being forced into making scones. Especially by one Mr. Jim Moriarty.

"You want me to do what?" He asked a scowl on his face.

"Make scones. It's not a hard concept really," Moriarty shrugged, his Russia-like smile scaring the wits out of the country. "I know Sherly-Sher's on this ship. I need scones for tea with him."

"What? Why?"

Moriarty shrugged, a Cheshire-like smirk on his face. "I haven't seen him in a while. Besides, it's time to explain to him a couple of things."

"Like what?"

"None of your business, dear~" Moriarty shrugged. "It's smart people things, things you petty unthinking creatures wouldn't understand." England scowled at that, it was both rude and uncalled for.

Well, this Mister Moriarty was one narcissistic git. "I am your country. I am n_ot _petty!" England clenched a fist. His emerald eyes glittered. "I was a pirate! I was the strongest empire in the history of the world!"

"And now you're not," Moriarty sang. "I wish you would tell me whhhhhy!" The man regained seriousness very quickly. "Now, England, get cooking! You don't have much time~"

"And what if I don't?" England challenged.

It didn't even take a second for Moriarty to come up with a threat. "It would be such a shame to cut off your eyebrows." England winced. He loved his eyebrows. If he didn't have them then his face would look weird and America would mercilessly tease him. He didn't really want to make scones for the manipulative git known as Moriarty, but...

"Alright."

"Good!" Moriarty handed him the pink oven mitts. "You have forty-five minutes, and if they're not done by then..." Moriarty raised his evil Britannia-brow cutting razor threateningly, and England nodded quickly. "Anyway, they need lemon curd, so I'll be back soon~"

* * *

"ENGLAAAAND!" America was shouting at the top of his lungs. The Doctor was running around sonicing everything. "This is so weird, dude! He was right behind me, I swear!" The Doctor scowled at him.

"This is England we're talking about. He doesn't just get lost!" The bowtie-wearing Time Lord snapped. Then he brightened. "Maybe he was looking for a fez, or a new bowtie?"

"Or maybe he was trying to destroy France again?" America mused. The Doctor shook his head.

"I would hope he would know better," The time lord groaned. "Last time he did that, he set Weeping Angels on Napoleon!" America laughed _heroically._

"This is ridiculous!" John burst finally. "How am I waiting for my own country, on board a spaceship, having just finished a game of Cluedo with a bunch of robots, a world superpower, three teenage wizards, and Sherlock?!" Sherlock frowned at him as Harry shrugged.

"I've done weirder things. Like kill a giant snake with a fake sword. Or-"

"Or almost die in a graveyard. That one takes the cake. Talk about irony," Ron agreed. Hermione sighed, shaking her head.

"The only good thing about that is it killed Edward Cullen," she said calmly, opening her magic bag and pulling out her lip chap. The other two wizards nodded in agreement.

"Who?"

"Cedric Diggory was a fake. He was actually a sparkling vampire," Sherlock said to John. America grinned at him.

"Twiliiiight!" he cheered. The Doctor rolled his eyes. "What? It's American! I love American things!"

"No shit Sherlock," the Doctor mumbled. Sherlock glared at him. "Right, sorry!" The door opened suddenly, and a man in a blue trench coat stood leaning against it.

"If you love American things," the man said with a flirtatious wink. "Then come take a look at this!" The man bowed. "Captain Jack Harkness," he sashayed over to America. "And who are you, handsome?" America grinned before striking a pose.

"I'M THE HERO!" he shouted. "I'm America!"

"Jack, shut up," the Doctor groaned. "Please. One American is enough!" America pouted.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Americans are just so loud."

"And annoying," Harry added. The Doctor nodded.

"Kinda like Draco," mused Ron. Hermione elbowed him.

"Their egos aren't as big."

"Yes they are," The Doctor and Harry chorused. America pouted.

"I don't have a big ego!" Captain Jack now sauntered up to John, having noted that America was too clueless to figure out that Jack was flirting with him.

"How did you get in here?" asked Magnussen. Everyone had, somehow, forgotten he was there. Jack winked.

"I'm Captain Jack Harkness."

"He flirted with the front guards," the Doctor translated.

"How do you flirt with a metal robot?" Hermione wondered.

"This is Jack Harkness we're talking about. Anything is possible."

* * *

"You're forty-five minutes are uuuup!" cheered one Moriarty as he skipped, yes, skipped, into the room, carrying a bag filled with jars.

"I hope they're done, because if they aren't you'll lose your eyebrows!" England was frowning at his creations. They were a bit more burned than usual. Just a little, but still. Moriarty popped up behind him.

"England! I need those scones!" England could hear the razor going off behind him, and shuddered. The country turned around, holding the plate. Moriarty examined them closely, looking at them from every angle. England held his breath. Finally Moriarty looked up.

"Weeeeeell..." he drawled, reminding England of one specific ginger sibling of his. "They're not bad. Actually, they'll do nicely!" Moriarty grinned, holding the razor threateningly. "Now, let's go find Sherly and the rest of your group!"

"Why?" England demanded, his thick eyebrows furrowing.

"Because I want to kill Magnussen! Sherlock is mine! All MINE!" England groaned. The razor poked him.

"Let's go, England! We're going to be assassins! Well, actually, you are, because I'm too fabulous. You're going to revert back to your pirate self. And then you're going to kill Magnussen with a scone bomb!" England sighed. Why did he always get stuck with the psychopaths?

* * *

As of right now, the majority of the group were entertained by this Captain Jack Harkness flirting with Sherlock. Well, everyone but America, because America was still running around looking for 'his England.' When Jack finally stopped to take a breath, a Dalek rolled up to Magnussen.

"We detect two intruders in the lower decks!" it beeped. Magnussen frowned, but America interrupted whatever he was about to say.

"_Dude_! You found England? Awesome!" The door opened, and a blond haired, big eyebrowed man was shoved in.

"Alright alright!" the man dusted himself off. "You don't have to be so rude!" America brightened up.

"England!" America glomped him.

"Get off me, America!" England struggled out of America's grip. The door opened one more time, and a man stepped past him, carrying a plate of burned rocks.

"No..." America gasped, staring from the man to England to the plate of rocks and back. "You made scones for him?" England nodded, looking miserable.

"He threatened my eyebrows..."

"If I were you I would take the eyebrows off," Ron commented. England scowled.

"Hi Sherlock!" the man looked at Magnussen with distaste. "And others." He raised the plate of scones. "I brought-" The floor exploded, and the second scariest noise to England's ears was heard.

"Kesesesesese!" the voice laughed." Why wasn't the AWESOME me invited to this party?" The dust cleared, and a pair of red eyes peered out, followed by a giant grin.

"MY AWESOME BRO!" America shouted, throwing his fist into the air.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, this chapter was done by the awesome author named MillieTheKitty37!**  
**Thank you to everyone who's reading so far, we have this fic planned pretty far ahead so look forward to more chapters soon! :)**

**~MillieTheKitty37**

**~BooksAreLikeChocolateButBetter**


	5. Tension on Deck

Tension on Deck

The deck of the ship was brimming with people and none of them had any idea as to why they were there or where _there_ glanced around the room, counting how many people were involved in this as he tried to make some sort of link as to what it all meant. In total, there were twelve people plus around a hundred Daleks who could destroy all of them in a matter of seconds. The deck consisted of: three nations (America, himself and now, sadly, Prussia); the Doctor who was currently having some sort of staring (glaring) contest with the Supreme Dalek; Captain Jack Harkness (who, England had noticed in slight offense, had flirted with everyone _but_ him- oh, and Magnussen); the infamous consulting detective Sherlock Holmes and his best friend John Watson; Sherlock's arch-nemesis Moriarty; Magnussen (Sherlock's other arch-nemesis) and three young wizards. Needless to say, things were getting pretty hectic.

"Okay, how the _bloody hell_ did you get here?" England glanced at Prussia as he paced the "deck" of the ship, trying to figure out exactly _what_ was happening. England thought that the easiest place to start was with how everybody seemed to be suddenly appearing out of nowhere.

Prussia simply snorted and examined his nails. "Well, it wasn't exactly a big deal y'know? I was picking out boots with West and suddenly the air just started shimmering then -BAMF- my awesome self is teleported to this shipwreck."

"_Excuse me?"_ Magnussen stopped looking at Sherlock for a moment and stormed over to the self-assured nation. "_Shipwreck?_ Do you have any idea how much money I spent on this thing? I'm not going to take insults from someone who~," Magnussen grinned and poked Prussia forcefully in the chest, enunciating each new word with another poke. Isn't. Even. A. Nation..Anymore."

"Yikes," America whispered to England. "That must have hurt."

"Oh, I am so not prepared to deal with you and your shitty negativity." The Prussian scanned the room, his eyes lingering on America before eventually falling on Captain Jack. "Hey good looking," Prussia sashayed over to the American who managed to look surprised, complimented, flirtatious and cocky all at the same time. "Let's go explore this crapwagon."

Jack raised an eyebrow before turning to the Doctor with a slight shrug. "He called me good looking," he whispered as though that settled everything. "Catch you later!"

They headed out of the nearest exit, not bothered by the cluster of Daleks that stared at them as they walked.

_Bloody hell,_ England thought with a sigh, _what I wouldn't give for a nice cup of tea right now._

* * *

As Prussia and Captain Jack walked out of the room, Sherlock turned to Moriarty. They held eye contact for what felt like forever when, in actuality, it was only for a few moments. So much was passed within that single look: hate, regret, betrayal, distaste and, oddly enough, respect. It was true, Sherlock respected Moriarty, admired him even. Moriarty didn't feel anything for anyone; he could be great without worrying about the collateral damage he caused. Sherlock didn't have that luxury. As much as he didn't want to, he could _feel_ and it grieved him greatly.

"So," Sherlock started, breaking the icy silence that he'd settled in the room as everyone watched, "what are you doing here?"

Moriarty rolled his eyes. "Isn't it obvious? To find _you_, of course," he said in a singsong voice. "I knew where you are, I _always_ know where you are." Moriarty's eyes travelled to England for a moment and Sherlock was suddenly reminded of the fact that they weren't the only two people in the room. "We've got a surprise planned, _don't we England?"_ Moriarty raised his voice in the Brit's direction.

The Brit looked up from his conversation with America and nodded, looking incredibly disturbed.

"Anyway," Moriarty continued, "we're going to kill Magnussen- of course," Moriarty glanced around the room, looking for his victim." Speaking of which, where is he?"

"Hold on for a second, you're going to kill him? Like, actually _kill_ him?" John's voice was harsh and full of hatred and Sherlock jumped at the tone. He'd completely forgotten about John. _How could Moriarty make him forget about John? _"You can't do that!"

Moriarty shrugged, spreading his arms wide. "Kill me instead then! A life for a life, Johnny boy. That's how it works~"

John rolled his eyes, stepped forward and grabbed Moriarty by the top of his shirt. "Quit the dramatics, you narcissistic bastard. Why can't you just leave us alone?" Sherlock was silent. He couldn't say anything, didn't want to say anything. All of the Daleks had suddenly gone, Sherlock assumed that they were with Magnussen. Everybody had wandered off; only England remained watching from the side-lines.

Moriarty let out a high-pitched giggle that ricocheted harshly throughout the room. "You're so adorable when you're angry," he turned to Sherlock. "He's so adorable when he's angry. You always did like the feisty ones didn't you?"

"John," Sherlock stepped forward and placed a hand on his best friend's shoulder. "He's not worth it, okay?" John looked at him, rage evident on his face. He turned back to Moriarty and his fists tightened. "Look at me, John, look at me!" Sherlock could feel the panic in his voice, see the tremor in his hands and John let go of Moriarty.

John stepped back, not looking at Sherlock. "I'm going to go before I do something I regret," he said, anger still there in his voice as headed for the door.

"John!" Sherlock cried, moving towards his friend. "It's dangerous!"

John rolled his eyes. "I'm sure I can handle myself." Sherlock watched him leave, not liking the strange feeling of guilt that was eating away at him.

Moriarty whistled. "Well, you really screwed that one up." Sherlock flipped him off. He was freaking out. He was trapped on a flying spaceship, John hated him and the two people he hated most were somewhat battling for his affections. There wasn't even a murder to cheer him up. The whole thing was ridiculous.

"Now," Moriarty turned to England, who had witnessed the entire thing, "I think it's time to deal with you~" He advanced on the Brit and Sherlock headed for the door, he couldn't watch. Whatever it was, he had to leave England was on his own.

He needed John.

* * *

America had watched Prussia leave and, after moments of debating whether he should comfort his friend, decided he would be of more use if he stayed with everyone else. Besides, he wanted to find out what had happened when England had gone missing.

"He's going to turn you into a pirate and make you _kill_ someone? That means that you won't be you anymore…" America asked, confused. What was the point in that? Well, Pirate England _was_ terrifying; that was probably the whole point.

"Not just anyone," England muttered, his voice low, "Magnussen. He wants me to kill Magnussen so he's going to turn me into a pirate."

America was baffled."Can he even do that?" He asked the Doctor, who was stood next to them.

"Oh yes, it's possible," the Doctor said, his mouth turned into a frown. _He doesn't suit frowning,_ America thought. _His eyes are extremely old but his face should be happy. _America thought it made him look more human.

"Ohmygod, what do we do?" He didn't want to lose England, _couldn't_ lose England.

England sighed, his face was pained. That was the face America hated. England was going to make a sacrifice; he was going to risk everything for everyone else. "_We _don't do anything," England looked at the Doctor. "Take America out of here, please. The three young wizards have already gone, I don't know where. Please, find the answers you need to fix this." England's voice was grave and America wanted to hug him. He didn't.

The Doctor nodded. "You humans never cease to amaze me," he commented, shaking England's hand. America guessed that it was his way of saying good luck.

England smiled softly. "Technically, I'm not human."

The Doctor shook his head; America thought that he looked sad again. "You are, inside."

America shrugged and turned to England. "I can think of worse things to be," he smiled softly. "I guess this is like a temporary goodbye." He wrapped his arms around the Brit, pulling him into a warm embrace. "Promise me you know what you're doing."

England clung to America, it felt as though neither of them wanted to let go. "I promise," he whispered in his ear before releasing him. "Now, leave and don't come back until I find you, okay?"

America nodded. "See you later, okay?" He walked out, the Doctor trailing silently behind him. He knew that it wasn't the last time he'd see the Brit, but for some reason he felt as though something had ended.

* * *

Prussia and Captain Jack were searching one of Magunssen's many offices, trying to find something useful. Prussia was still angry. In fact, he was more than angry. He was hurt and that wasn't an emotion he was used to.

Everything had been going wrong for him just lately. His two closest friends France and Spain hadn't spoken with him in quite a while, his love life was practically non-existent (he liked someone but didn't have the courage to tell them) and now, that jerk Magnussen had just gone and reminded him of the fact that his nation had dissolved years ago. Prussia felt as though he was just a shadow of his past self. He had expired- he was past his sell-by date.

"So," Prussia was shook out of his silent lament by Captain Jack's voice, "that guy really got to you, huh?"

Prussia hesitated; did he really want to tell a complete stranger all of his problems? Then again, he did need to rant. "Yeah, I guess so. It's just that, technically, I've lost all of my status as a nation and that dick used that against me. It still hurts, you know. I used to be great and now I'm just… Me," he finished lamely, not looking at Jack.

"Well," Jack had stopped rifling through the filing cabinet and was now paying full attention to the nation, "if it makes any difference you seem pretty damn awesome to me."

Prussia smiled, feeling slightly happier than he did before. "Thanks," he muttered, feeling a little flushed. "You don't seem too bad yourself," he added.

"So I've been told," Jack said with a chuckle.

They lapsed into silence again as Prussia returned to looking through Magunssen's desk. "Do you have any thoughts to why we're here?" Prussia asked, turning to face Jack and surprising himself by breaking the silence.

Jack thought for a second then shook his head. "Nope. No idea. Although, and I know this will sound weird, I'm kind of glad we don't know. Mysteries provide a good distraction from loneliness."

Prussia felt something then, maybe it was his heart breaking. "You're alone?"

Jack nodded. "I have been for years. It's pretty hard to settle down when you're immortal."

Prussia stepped towards Jack. There was something in his voice- it was so unbearably _sad. _"If it makes any difference, I know how you feel. Nations are immortal too and it can get pretty damn lonely."

Jack smiled and Prussia couldn't help himself, he didn't know why he even did it as it was so unlike him: he raised his hand to Jack's face and kissed him softly.

_Nobody is ever truly alone._

* * *

America and the Doctor walked down the Southern corridor, (America was sure that there was an official spaceship name for that but he couldn't remember it), they were looking for Prussia. They had decided to find Captain Jack and Prussia before going to find answers and besides, if there was anyone who could cheer him up right now, it was the red-eyed Prussian.

"Are you sure they went this way?" America asked, groaning. "We've been walking for ages!"

The Doctor rolled his eyes and tweaked his bowtie. "I never said I was sure, I was just making an educated guess. Not that it was very educated- just a guess really, hah!" He laughed, the type of laugh someone did when they were used to laughing at their own jokes.

America stopped, he'd heard something – he was sure of it! "Can you hear that, at the end of the room?"

The Doctor stopped, listening. His eyes widened and he turned around. "America, I think Prussia's this way….Let's go."

"Nope!" America grinned; those were definitely Prussia's groans. Had he fallen over or something? "He's this way." America headed towards the open door.

"That's what I'm afraid of…" The Doctor muttered.

America stepped through the door expecting to see Prussia on the ground, clutching at his twisted ankle or something but the floor was empty. He stepped into the room, his eyes automatically widened. Prussia was most definitely not injured. He was pressed against the wall, his cheeks were flushed and he was moaning. That other American- Jack, he remembered was kissing the nation. Their mouths were pressed together; occasionally one would open, gasping for air. America was pretty sure that what they were doing was a totally different kind of exploring.

"What are you doing?!" America asked, frozen in the middle of the room. He couldn't look directly at them, he stared at the wall, and his cheeks were red.

Jack broke away from the Prussian and without even hesitating he went to answer America's question. "Well, believe it or not we were ki-"

"Looking for my piece of chewing gum!" The Prussian cried, grinning at the American, his face flushed. "I thought I swallowed a piece of chewing gum and Jack was helping me find it."

"Oh," the American now smiled, it all made sense. "I feel bad now. I thought you were doing something else."

Prussia laughed, shaking his head at his friend. "Oh god no, America. I am way too awesome for that kind of thing, you know?" Prussia glanced at a bemused Captain Jack and bit his lip. "Anyway, I still haven't found that gum so I'd better get back to it…" He glanced meaningfully at the door.

"Okay," the American beamed. "I hope you find your gum!" He left the room, closing the door behind him.

The Doctor stood wearily in the corridor. "I did tell you not to go in there," he said, shrugging. "Are you okay?"

The Doctor shook his head. "And they call America the great nation…"

America smiled. "Of course, they were only looking for gum, jeez!" They walked back the way they had came, the Doctor had clearly decided that they no longer needed those two in order to get answers. _Note to self: get some chewing gum next time England comes over._

* * *

A/N: **This update was seriously due ages ago! I'M SO SORRY! **

**Thanks for reading! :)**

**~BooksAreLikeChocolateButBetter.**

**~MillieTheKitty37**


	6. My Stick is Better than Yours

My Stick is Better than Yours

**A/N: Okay, just a quick note to say that the last chapter has been re-written so that it actually makes sense. :3 You may need to read that in order to slightly understand some of this including the whole Prussia X Jack thing. **

**Hope you enjoy this chapter which MillieTheKitty37 wrote~**

* * *

"So, how are we supposed to complete this prophecy of CAM's?" asked Harry. Ron shrugged, but Hermione frowned thoughtfully.

"We'll all have to work together, obviously," Hermione began. "So, let's break this down. The Doctor is a time traveller- no Harry, he can't go back and save people." She said, spotting his hopeful expression. "It's against the rules. Honestly, it's in '_Hogwarts, A History_.' You can't change fixed points in time."

"Why is that in _Hogwarts, A History_?" demanded Ron in a heated whisper.

"When it talks about student-use time turners. It's fascinating. Don't you _read_?" Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Anyway, we've got a time traveller, a collection of people who represent countries, a detective and his blogger, and a psychopath. Then there's the three of us, the Golden Trio. We've all been abducted, and we have to work together somehow. The question is what we can all do together that governments and Gods and God knows what else can't."

"Hm..." The group was sitting quietly when there was a knock at one of the doors leading into the corridor.

"Get that," ordered Magnussen, who had located the Golden Trio and was lounging in his chair. A Dalek wheeled over to the door and stood before it.

"I HAVE NO HAAAANDS," it said after a moment. Magnussen sighed dramatically.

"I'll get it," Hermione said. She went over to the door and opened it to reveal a man with bright green eyes, chestnut hair, and a _huge_ smile.

"Hola! I'm Spain! Is Prussia around here somewhere?" The man cocked his head.

"Uh…" Harry started.

"That albino? He's making out with someone down that-a-way," Magnussen answered.

"Oh, graçias!" Spain grinned and flounced away. Hermione re-joined Harry and Ron, who were staring at the man going down a different hallway.

"It's rude to stare," she pointed out crossly.

"How can we not stare?" Ron said, drooling slightly.

"Ron!"

"Seriously, Hermione. Look at his _ass_, look at his _thighs_," Harry said, never taking his eyes off Spain.

"He's catnip to the guys," added Ron. Hermione stared at Spain's butt as he sauntered down the corridor. It _was_ the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. It practically sparkled.

"He has _got _to be part Veela," she said after a moment

"His butt's probably the father of all Veela," Ron sighed. The man turned a corner and disappeared from sight.

"Damn, I should have taken a picture," Harry cursed.

* * *

Perhaps twenty minutes had passed. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were looking out the window and talking to each other while the Daleks and Magnussen bleeped at each other. A sudden racket came from the hallway Spain had gone down; making everyone in the room jump (who knew Daleks could jump?). Prussia, followed by Spain, came sprinting into the room.

"Scheiße scheiße scheiße!" Prussia went crashing into the wall before righting himself and diving behind a Dalek. Spain looked terrified as he dove behind Hermione and Ron.

"What's wrong?" Harry demanded, slightly bewildered.

"_He's back_!" Spain said in a highly terrified voice.

"Oh, why can't France be here..." moaned Prussia.

"What's on your neck?" asked Ron curiously.

"Nothing!" Prussia clapped a hand over the mark.

"Who's here?" Harry asked again, wand out. Hermione and Ron followed his lead.

"Captain England!" cackled a familiar voice. The former empire and the former country screamed and cowered behind their blockades. The trio saw England, but at the same time it wasn't him. This England had a wild look in his eyes, an insane grin, and a sword in one hand, a gun in the other. The coat he had somehow found was dark red, billowing out behind him, and he wore a black pirate hat on his head with lots of white feathers. He looked _drool worthy_. "Good morrow, demon. And to you, tomato. How have your navies been?" Prussia shuddered, and Spain looked a bit like he was a second away from crying.

"My armada..." he whimpered.

"Your armada is no match for the English Empire!" England's sword pointed dramatically at Spain, who practically burst into tears and shrank behind Hermione. There was dark laughter from the hallway, and Moriarty appeared with the scones in his hand.

"Your days are numbered, Magnussen! Sherlock's affections are MINE!" he smiled. "I choose you, pirate England!" England twirled his sword.

Magnussen raised an eyebrow before shouting, "Go, France!" A man with long-ish blond hair appeared.

"Ohnhonhonhonhon Cherie!" France laughed. "We meet again!"

"You're going _downm_" England snarled. The pair stared at each other.

"England use slash!" ordered Moriarty. England lunged forwards and slashed with his sword towards France's chest.

"Le EEEEK!" France jumped backwards.

"France use charm!" Magnussen instructed.

"You _lovely_ black sheep~" France blew a kiss at England, who looked furious.

"England, use tackle!" Moriarty barked.

"I AM NOT A BLACK SHEEP!" England lunged and tackled France to the floor.

"Non non non!" France wiggled in place.

"France, use wood hammer!" France withdrew a pointed stick from his jacket.

"_En garde_ you son of a haggis!" France poked England in the stomach and wiggled out from underneath the Brit. England leapt backwards.

"How dare you poke my stomach!?" he seethed.

"A pox on the phony king of Eeeeeengland!" France sang as he danced out of reach. England was seething.

"Hey sticky, you so fine, you so fine you blow my mind hey STICKY!" A man with short blond hair in a black hoody pranced into the room, through the door Spain came through the first time. He started to drum on one of the Dalek's heads. "Ba ba ba bum! Ba ba ba bum!"

"IT IS THE MASTER!" the Daleks began to whirled around. "EXTERMINA-"

"No that's rude," the Master pulled a sharp looking stick out of thin air and stabbed it into the eye stalk.

"MY EEEYYYYYEEEE!" the Dalek whined. The Master ignored it in favour of examining France, who examined him back.

"I like your stick," the Master said after a few seconds. "Mine's better."

"Is not."

"Is so."

"Is not."

"Is so."

"Is not."

"Would you two SHUT UP?" boomed a sudden voice from Prussia's direction. Prussia pulled out an iPhone 9001.

"Oh no, it's Germanyyyyy!" whimpered France, looking afraid.

"They haven't made those yet," Hermione said, puzzled.

"My awesomeness made it OVER NINE THOUUUUUUSAAAND!" Prussia explained in a loud voice.

"Bruder where are you?" demanded the voice from a few moments ago.

"On a spaceship with England, America, Spain, and France. And some random people," Prussia shrugged. "And a totally hot American by the name of Captain Jack."

"Hm," Germany was quiet for a moment. "Who's arguing about sticks?" Prussia put the phone on Facetime and showed him the Master and France.

"My stick's clearly more amazing," the Master proclaimed.

"Non, that is mine. Your eyesight is bad," France argued immediately.

"You're both wrong," Germany snapped. They both stared at him. "Mien sticky friend has been with me since World War II." A brown stick appeared on the screen, and Germany rocked it back and forth. "Mien sticky friend is much better. Get back soon, bruder. You might start worrying Canada." The call finished.

"Still a better love story than Twilight," Ron deadpanned after a moment. Hermione and Harry snickered.

"Oh _hell_ no." the Master and France said together, turning and parading out the door together. "Let's kick his ass with our sticks."

"That call better be registered in my plan," Prussia grumbled. Everyone was silent again, and then Moriarty cleared his throat.

"Well, as I was saying, Magnussen, your days are numbered, and Sherlock is mine!" He pointed a finger at his enemy. "England, I choose you!"

"That's Captain to you," England muttered, but charged at Magnussen anyway. Magnussen began pressing buttons, and then the door opened for what seemed like the 800th time, and a man shot through the door. This man had very pale skin, grey hair the colour of his skin plastered to the top of his head, and bright red eyes. He stared around at everyone, black cape and black pants floating around him.

"Voldemort?" asked Hermione hesitantly.

"Ehehehehehe!" Voldemort withdrew his wand. "Come on, Potter! Imperio!" The spell flew at Harry. "You take your foot-" Harry tapped his left foot. "Your little foot!" Harry tapped his foot three times. "Hey look! Your foot!" He spun his foot in a circle. "See how it starts to shaaaaake!" Voldemort began to tap dance. "Dance with me, mud-blood pirate!" England stared at him for a moment, insane green eyes calculating, then shrugged and jumped next to him, tap dancing with him.

"Ooh try his arms! How 'bout a twirl! He's like a girl! How overdue! I finally get to dance again with you!" They sang together, tap dancing like fools. The imperio left Harry, and he scrambled back to Ron and Hermione, staring in slight horror at the insane pirate and the dark wizard. "To dance again! I've been waiting all these years, to dance again. Now at once a chance appears, it's lovely swaying, and the music's playing! Come on! Let's dance again!" America and the Doctor, along with Sherlock, Captain Jack, came in through the hallway and stopped short. America opened his mouth.

"Don't ask," John sighed.

"Who's that?" asked Captain Jack.

"Voldemort. The darkest wizard since Grindelwald," Hermione answered.

"And he's tap dancing?" the Captain asked.

"Yup," Ron answered.

"This is _so_ going on Tumblr!" Prussia cackled.

* * *

**A/N:**

**I hope that sort of made sense! :3 Thanks for reading :) **

**~MillieTheKitty37**

**~BooksAreLikeChocolateButBetter**


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